Monday, October 25, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241010.25 || Joint Log "House of Healing" Part I || 1st Lt Brent Warren, LtCmdr Sakarra Tyrax

=/\=  T'Shen monastery, Shi'Al province =/\=
17th Day in the month of et'Khior, YS 9022



Rain over Llangon.

There are few places on the harsh, unforgiving world circling 40 Eridani A that may claim to be peaceful, and to have been so for as long as the people living there can remember. And Vulcans have a very, very long memory.

Beautiful, serene, shrouded in no mystery other than that why every healer and gardener living here seems to know the secret to smiling without ever losing the eternal composure permeating the very walls, T'Shen has ever been a haven for those seeking to heal both body and soul.

Rain over Llangon.

A silver veil falling over the ancient, honey colored stone, the sun baked roofs. Caressing the tall, fragrant conifers with its cool touch, singing on the many fountains.


Like so many fluttering birds, Vulcans of all ages, all size and shape and colour poured into the gardens, the forest. Stately and serene in their deep red robes the healer-monks, less stately but still exuding the same air of silent mirth, the novices in their undyed wool and every patient able to take to their feet. The others … carried into the lovely, rare marvel by solicitous, gentle hands.

Rain over Llangon.

If many a young one stared at the sky with open wonder, or closed their eyes and stood like spellbound, the elders would only quietly … not notice. If here and there a child shrieked with delight or ran off into the trees, shedding garments underway … the only gazes following were indulgent ones, making certain the little ones would not stray too far in their enthusiasm.


Rain over Llangon.

V'Ley did not bother to hide her smile, running the damp cloth over the poor injured t'sai on the bed before her as outside the mist rose from the rich, dark soil, filled the air with the promise of life. The Vulcan in her healing trance would scarce notice, nor would the human dozing peacefully on the couch next to her. Whatever this 'snoring' she had been told about was, he had not done it and so she had not been forced to ask a healer for assistance, only kept her vigil watching over the two.


More than once, the tall, dark V'Shar, resplendent in black and silver, had passed through. Murmuring quietly to the unmoving young woman on the bed while healers retreated discreetly, casting unreadable glances at the empty couch where the human had slept before leaving for his ship. Almost as often, the proud, lovely t'sai in her gleaming terracotta uniform, huffing in annoyance when her heavy belly made it difficult to kneel comfortably or for that matter sit, lay down or do a blessed thing, but refusing any and all assistance with a feral gleam in her storm-grey eyes. It would be soon, V'Ley knew. Even a novice can tell the signs of a Vulcan mother becoming increasingly … irate.


He was back now, resting next to her, and the young healer sensed she was breathing easier for it. As if a part of the injured one still felt the pain of separation, still needed to know he was close to be at peace. "Fy'ya rhi-tras'hel iy-veh, T'sai."

Not that she was wont to comprehend the words, deep in her trance. But the tone, the inflection, the timbre of the young healer's voice she would know. He is here. He won't leave you.


It was difficult to not let the smile turn into an all out low chuckle when the human stirred, making the most interesting noises. Like as not they meant he would wake soon, though to the Vulcan ear it sounded like a young Sehlat growling and stretching before it would challenge a sibling to play. 

"Brent Warren." Careful to give the name the proper inflection and pronounce it as it should be, V'Ley called out to the Yel-Halitra Marine, softly but loud enough to be heard should he indeed be drifting in that state unfamiliar to Vulcans - that drowsy, neither here nor there land between dreaming and waking.

"Brent Warren. Look."


He was sleeping again. He had gotten a shower and an excessively large meal before returning back to the monastery. She hadn't moved much, but then again she probably shouldn't be moving much. In all reality neither should he. His arm was hurting him again from all of the moving around that he had been doing. It was something to deal with another time. If need be Brent figured he could listen to a doctors lecture and get some pain medication. But all of that would come later. Much much later. After he was certain that Sakarra would be fine and she had been transferred back to the ship.

The disturbance snapped him out of the daze that meant he was about to fall back to sleep. Too bad too. He could have used the nap. His head snapped up as if startled, his eyes taking a moment to focus before he looked at the healer who had been left to monitor her. L'Vey? V'Ley? He wasn't totally sure. He squinted for a moment before he looked at her. "Hm? Something going on," he said before looking down at his beloved.


Schooling her features to betray nothing but perfect serenity – ah well, almost perfect – V'Ley nodded and pointed at the large glass doors she had thrown open at the first sign that the rain would truly fall this year. The small porch was already covered in droplets, the musical sound of rain hitting the warm stone adding to the murmur of the trees.


Oh, she had heard rain was nothing special to many other species. Most, actually. There were even planets that had so much of it, people were complaining. And while V'Ley found that a tad illogical, she still was determined to one day go and see one of those places.

Right here and now however she felt it only polite to share the marvel with the human, and perhaps … well, the young t'sai might not … or maybe she could sense it. It would be…

Chiding herself as an incurable romantic, the young healer lowered her head. It would be terrible if the human noticed. Not so much the smile that was once more tugging at her lips but her … emotional outbursts.


Brent looked outside, at first unable to see anything unique as to what was going on there. Then it dawned on him where he was again and he smiled slightly. "Rain. I must confess whenever I think about Vulcan I never imagine it raining," he said with a smile. "I suppose the forest here has to get its green from someplace," he said with a smile. It took him a moment before Brent recognized the expressions on the young healer's face, which drew a slight smile to his lips before he looked back down at Sakarra, trying to see if she was doing any better. He was half tempted to take his beloved by the hand and let her know what he had just discovered... But in the end simply settled for brushing the hair away from her face.


The young healer nodded so enthusiastically it was near enough to send her long black braid flying across her back "Ha, sov-masu. Only every decade, often less, this low in the mountains." Of course she was fully aware her ... amicable reaction was going beyond the courteous wish to make an outworlder at ease, but the usual discipline of analyzing the emotion and then setting it aside seemed slightly impaired. Though there seemed to be a connection between the Marine's smiles – at once natural and not at all as boisterous and overwhelming as one usually imagined humans and with a glint of something else that V'Ley found it wise not to ponder right now – and her somewhat erratic behavior.


Of course had she been in her right mind, V'Ley would have sensed the … visitor long before the surge of heat seemed to scorch her back.


There are merits and pitfalls to moving as soundlessly as a gust of wind, to be as silent as the Le-Matya on the hunt even when you were not in all actuality attempting to be. For the most part, the merits far outweighed any minor drawbacks and Sovar was quite content to only purposefully make noise when the situation called for it. In a place as serene as this, any deliberate noise was not only illogical, but rude. Especially since among your own kind 'sneaking up' as it were was a futile exercise and the possibility of offending thusly equally precluded.

What the tall V'Shar had not counted on was the fact the people he heard speaking long before he had closed the door to the antechamber were truly utterly ... unaware. And took no notice whatsoever of the dark shadow in the doorframe, stopped in his tracks by seeing …

No expression crossed the sharp, clear features, no muscle moved. But for a heartbeat, fury rose and burned. And was reined in, put away, sent to glow and smolder once more.

"Ohassu. Ra'uzh."



[To be continued …]


Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Executive Officer


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander



USS Charon